Hampton gardenI
sit working, and through the window
See autumn slowly strangling our garden.
Our neighbour’s oak covers the lawn with crunchy acorns.
Apples ripen on a miniature tree, slender arms crutched.
Lawn weeds mount their last challenge, while the yew
Bombards the patio with red stickiness.
We move the chairs so we can sit in the sun.

Holly and yew treesDark, round, outside my window, cutting outWinter sun, when I crave the warmth of spring.Then you shoot, look brighter for a while, butTake the light I need, drain the earth of moisture,Killing struggling grass, and when other trees turn brown.You glue my path with berries, hitch-hiking into the house.Your final year at your size, for this winter I’ll truncate you.

I read, note the news.Nothing novel, repeated themes.Today's the same.

Outside, people pass,Fast, rush to work,Just one girl smiles.

Thinking, drinking slowly,Mind grinding into gear,I'm good to go.

Burger burglar at Burger King, WaterlooTattered bag man scouts the tablesSeeking the unfinished meals.Eyes light up when he discoversChicken bites or scattered chips.Over on another tableUnused sauces wait for him.Opening them, he dips with relish,Wolfing down, and then is gone.

SPRING TRILOGY (Two sonnets and a haiku)

Torrents…

A wave of sap now breaks the garden’s peace

The bushes lose their shape, invade the lawn

Their shoots surge out, no sign of any cease

An ill-considered growth, green lust reborn.

The soggy moss infests the tidy sward,

With clover creeping quiet in close support

Meanwhile the grass escapes, and leaps toward

The flowerbeds, where refuge new is sought.

The year is born again, no sign of age.

But as for us, the future’s not so bright.

The garden breaks us, puts us in a rage.

We mow, we rake, we prune, but lose the fight.

By June despair drowns all, and then we sigh….

God give us concrete jungle – till we die.

Rustle…

Our garden gulps attention. “So unfair!”,

Complains our house, “Please paint my walls.”

While pollen drenching, choking, wheezing air

Of we who breathe it deep takes heavy toll.

Sweet shoots that shyly turn to early leaves

Are scythed away by vicious slugs and snails,

Round pellets steer, chop life out, evil thieves.

The signs are left by slimy killer trails.

The tulips, hyacinths that grace the scene

In days pass through their splendour, quick to fade.

Sad slaughtered fledglings, cat drags, red through green.

The garden gives our dreams a greyer shade.

A place to while away our latter hours?

Each year we work on it takes two off ours.

Final burst…

Rash invading weeds

Colonise the ordered lawn.

Suburban nightmare!

The
neighbourA
few yards down the road.
You’re always there, O’Sheagh.
Big, brave? Or brutal beast?
That’s what we think of you!